Shifting
by MinnieCat5
Summary: A rough night for a pair of Muggle-born siblings leads to a conversation between two people who could count on one hand the number of amicable exchanges they'd shared in the last seven years. Could this be the moment when their prickly coexistence finally begins to shift to something friendlier?


**Shifting**

_October 1977_

James Potter leant against a window in the Hospital Wing, staring out at the starry sky and waning moon hanging over the Forbidden Forest. Though he was looking at it all, he wasn't quite seeing it. Instead, he was distracted by the acute awareness that Lily Evans was staring at him.

Lily. Staring at _him._

Perhaps he was dreaming. He could be. He could've fallen asleep leaning against that window and not even noticed. It had been a long night, and had all begun when Professor McGonagall had asked James and Lily, as Head Boy and Girl, to bring a pair of their housemates to the Headmaster's office after dinner. With a bit of foreboding in their stomachs, James and Lily had obliged, and brought Dirk and Eline Cresswell directly to Dumbledore's office after dinner. There, they'd stood behind Dumbledore's trademark chintz armchairs as Professor McGonagall gently told the Cresswells that their Muggle parents had been killed by Death Eaters. Dumbledore had sat silently behind his desk, his fingers tented, with a look of deep, weary sadness in his eyes. James had had a hard time pulling his eyes away from the sight of Dumbledore so solemn; it hadn't seemed right. But the news of the Cresswells' parents had shaken him away from Dumbledore, and he'd redirected his focus to the sixth- and third-year in the chairs in front of him.

And that had only been the first half of the evening. After Professor McGonagall had sent the Cresswells back to Gryffindor Tower, she'd kept James and Lily behind to make suggestions on how to look out for their grieving peers before sending them on their way, too. They'd walked in solemn silence – though the silence was due in part to the fact that Lily was still frustrated that Dumbledore had made him Head Boy – until sounds of raised voices and spellfire reached their ears. They'd both sprung into action, drawing their wands and running towards the fighting. James imagined Lily had been just as surprised as he was to find Dirk and Eline Cresswell shouting at each other, with tears on their faces and wands gripped tightly in their hands. They'd paused, dumbstruck and uncertain, until they saw Eline raise her wand and fire a spell at her older brother, which he easily deflected. Both Lily and James had raised their wands, but not before Dirk fired a spell of his own, disarming his sister and sending her skidding into the wall behind her.

James remembered with an amused smirk how Lily had gone after Dirk in a rage for that. She'd certainly given him a talking-to about how an older brother ought to be handling himself in a situation like this, throwing all of Professor McGonagall's advice out the window. James had let her say what she wanted, knowing from experience that it was best not to try to interfere when Lily was crusading. Instead, he'd gone over to check on Eline, who'd collapsed in his arms, sobbing.

James closed his eyes at the memory, his heart panging dully.

Now, he and Lily were hanging around the Hospital Wing, uncertain if they were still needed while Madam Pomfrey attended to the Cresswells.

And Lily was staring at him.

"How the tables have turned. Evans, staring at me?" James commented lightly, his soft voice carrying in the quiet room.

Lily did not respond immediately. Although he'd been sure she must have been able to hear him in the silence, he began to doubt himself. He knew better, though, than to try to deliver a line like that twice.

Then, to his delight, she replied, "I'm trying to figure you out."

James raised his eyebrows and looked around to meet her directly in the eyes, "Has me showing a side of myself that's not an arrogant toerag disarmed you?"

Lily snorted, crossing her arms. "Perhaps." She came to stand beside him, leaning against the window, too. "You were good at that. Comforting Eline."

James stared out at the grounds ahead of him. He knew what had sprung to mind at the compliment, but was unsure if he should say it. Eventually, though, he shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I've had practice."

"Practice?" Lily repeated, turning to look at him again.

James grimaced out the window, immediately regretting his decision to speak, "I shouldn't have said anything. It's not my place to talk about it."

He felt Lily's eyes boring into the side of his head. "It's about one of your friends."

"Yes," he replied simply.

Lily let silence fall between them after that. James glanced over at her consideringly. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to confide in her. He wanted to tell her everything about himself, explain every thought behind every interaction he'd had with her since they met. He wanted her to like his friends. "Sirius doesn't live with his parents. He lives with mine." James stopped himself from saying more. He nodded to himself curtly, feeling satisfied with what he'd said.

She was staring at him again. He could feel the surprise in her demeanor. His heart pounded in his chest, as though it was desperate to escape and be hers.

"I see," she said simply. He heard her take an audible breath before adding, "Severus's family is like that."

James blinked, and then glanced over at her in surprise. They held each other's gaze for a long moment, that to James both felt like an eternity and not long enough at all. Lily was the one who broke the connection, turning back to the window and asking, "Is that why Sirius hates Slytherin so much?"

"I think so."

Lily nodded. He studied her face, noting the tenseness in her jaw and the crease between her eyes. Her neck, too, looked taut, and her arms were crossed. Her body was stiff as an unyielding wand. She surprised him by saying, "Well, I won't say that justifies it all, but I understand it a little better."

Silence fell between them once again. James licked his lips. He was desperate to bring up Snape again. There was so much he wanted to know. "Are Snape's parents Gryffindors?"

He earned a scowl for his question. "His father's a Muggle and you know it." James looked away, his cheeks burning. "His mother's a Slytherin."

An awkward silence followed that. James took a deep breath and said, "I honestly forgot."

He felt her eyeing him again. He knew she'd be suspicious of him, suspicious that this was part of another ploy to woo her. When she spoke again, the acidic tone in her voice alone made James grimace, "I suppose it's easy to forget the details of someone's life when you hate them."

James scowled. His heart filled with jealous rage. They weren't even friends anymore, and she _still_ defended him. He bit back, "So you don't hate him, then?"

Lily's lips thinned, "I could never."

"He called you—"

"I know."

"You don't even—"

"I know."

James's nostrils flared. "You love him."

Lily blinked and glanced over at James. He'd heard the bitterness in his own voice. He knew he'd said too much. But at this point, he didn't care anymore. He was tired of trying to pretend not to care about Snape's – former? – role in her life.

"That's why you torment him. Because of me," Lily remarked quietly.

James flushed, and looked determinedly out the window.

"That was rather childish and self-destructive of you," she quipped.

He scowled and snapped, "Well, I was a child when I started it." Once it seemed Lily had nothing to say to that, James repeated the part of her statement that had intrigued him, "Self-destructive?"

"Well, your treatment of Severus was a large part of why I never liked you," Lily replied simply.

"Because you love him."

Lily sighed and rolled her eyes, "It's not like that."

James didn't respond. He stared out the window with his arms crossed, suppressing a turmoil of emotions roiling within himself. Anger, at himself, for potentially spoiling his chances with Lily; hatred and jealousy of Snape, for obvious reasons; a great amount of affection for the witch beside him; and a heavy sadness, weighing in his heart, though familiar after all the times Lily had left it bruised.

"He was my first connection with the wizarding world. He explained it all to me. He was my best friend. And he protected me as long as he could from the knowledge that there would be people in this world who hate me simply because I'm Muggle-born," she explained.

"And now he's one of them," James reminded her bitterly.

"He doesn't hate me."

James clenched his jaw.

"He'll always be a part of me. A friendship like that leaves a mark. That's why what he called me hurt all the more. I feel like…he's beyond my help. I've lost my best friend. That breaks my heart, but I can't bear to see the person he's turning into."

Silence fell between them again as James tried to genuinely soak in her words, tried to understand her perspective, as much as it hurt him to understand how much she cared about Snape, even still, and how much she _still_ did not care about James. He thought again of how much he'd wanted her to know him. He wanted to know her in that way, too. He swallowed hard and asked, "What's your favorite memory with him?"

He could tell he'd surprised her. In his peripheral vision, he saw her look quickly in his direction. She didn't respond immediately, and he started to wonder if she would. Slowly, he turned to look at her, and met her eyes. She stared hard into his, with the beautiful green eyes he loved so much, and then, to his delight, she smiled. "When I showed him my wand for the first time. I was so proud, and excited. The first thing I wanted to do when Professor McGonagall brought me back home from Diagon Alley was run to Severus and tell him all about it. And he shared in my excitement. He smiled, and he admired my wand. I felt special. It felt like a fairytale."

James's heart panged painfully. He wished that had been him. "What's your wand?"

"Willow and phoenix feather, ten and a quarter inches, swishy," she replied promptly. She drew it from her pocket to show him.

He reached out, and then paused, looking up at her, "May I?"

She hesitated, but then a small smirk quirked at one corner of her lips, "If you give me yours."

James snorted softly through his nose, but handed over his own wand. Lily permitted him to take hers, and they both examined the other's wand. James smiled as he ran his fingers along the smooth wood of Lily's willow wand. She clearly took good care of it, and he'd have expected nothing less of her. She would not find the same level of care in his; he was sure that was exactly what she'd expect of him, too.

"What's your wand made of?" she asked.

"Mahogany and dragon heartstring, eleven inches, pliable," he said, looking up from her wand at her face, awaiting her judgement a little self-consciously.

Lily did not comment on the state of his wand, though, and traded him for hers without a word. Silence fell between them again, but this time, it was more comfortable. James felt a warmth in his heart, now, feeling fortunate to be able to stand side-by-side with her amicably.

"Miss Evans? Mr. Potter?" They turned at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice. She gave them a tired smile and replied, "They're alright, at least physically. I'll keep them here, though, for the night. You can go. Professor McGonagall sent word that she'll speak to you tomorrow to hear your story."

Lily pushed herself off the window, "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Have a good night."

Madam Pomfrey inclined her head with a smile, "And you, Miss Evans. Mr. Potter."

James nodded. He slowly stood up straight, looking down the Hospital Wing towards the Cresswells' beds. He couldn't imagine what they were going through.

"They'll sleep through the night," Madam Pomfrey assured him quietly. "Dreamless Sleep."

James turned to the matron and gave her a little grimace. He nodded again, and then made his way for the door. Lily fell into step beside him. They walked in silence all the way to the entrance hall, and up the first flight of stairs. Halfway up the second, Lily remarked, "People are complicated."

James glanced over at her, a little bemused.

"It's funny," she continued softly. Her eyes were focused on her feet, moving one in front of the other, carefully up the stairs. "How much things can change in seven years. I look back on the way I saw the world when I started here…I thought I was so smart."

"You were."

Lily rolled her eyes, "Well, for an eleven-year-old. But I was naïve."

James didn't respond to that. He wasn't sure how; he wasn't quite sure where she was going with this.

"When I was eleven…Severus was good, and you were bad. It was simple. But now…" Lily trailed off, and James's heart leapt. He didn't dare look at her. He didn't want to discourage her from continuing that thought. "…now I see that it's quite possible for you _both_ to be good and bad all at once."

James opened his mouth in offense, instinctively wanting to defend himself, but then thought better of it. He'd verbally sparred with Lily enough to be wiser than that. She'd certainly win. And perhaps she should. Perhaps he was…bad. Not Death Eater bad, but still. At first, his heart sunk at the acknowledgement; Lily thought he was bad, and she was probably right. He didn't deserve her.

But then, he reminded himself that she still held affection in her heart for Snape, and _he_ was Death Eater bad. James knew that at least he was better than that. He glanced quickly over at her as they reached the top of the fourth flight of stairs and mounted the fifth. His heart flipped excitedly at the prospect of her warming to him.

They said nothing more to each other until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. James hesitated in giving the password, not wanting their time alone to end. He was heartened when Lily hesitated, too. His heart pounded in his chest as she turned to him and said, "It was nice talking to you tonight, Potter." James smiled, and she quickly added in a stern voice, "But if you tell anyone I said so, I'll profusely deny it."

James laughed and replied, "I won't tell a soul." When Lily raised a skeptical eyebrow, he added, "Well, perhaps I'll tell a few animals."

Lily snorted and quipped, "So you mean your friends, then."

James grinned. If only she knew. He hoped, one day, she would.


End file.
